It was a truth equivalent to winning the lottery two years in a row, then pulling ten gacha cards in a mobile game only for eight of them to be SSRs. Either the odds were being fixed, or my luck would need to be rebalanced, and I’d be fatally hit by a car the next second I stepped into the road.
That was how unlikely this whole thing was—but there was a part of me that couldn’t help but accept it. Especially when I looked back and saw all those pieces that finally fit into place.
Mashiro and Makigai Namako-sensei had never been at an Alliance party at the same time. More accurately, Makigai Namako-sensei used to speak at the parties via voice chat, but ever since Mashiro started coming, he switched to talking exclusively through text.
It was also strange that Canary took Mashiro on that trip to the country to force her to work on her manuscript. It made sense if she was a prizewinner who Canary was training, but what was the point in enforcing a deadline for an amateur writer so heavy-handedly? But if Mashiro was actually Makigai Namako-sensei, it all added up.
And that wasn’t all.
If I really thought about it...I’d had my answer ever since the day Makigai Namako-sensei and I first made contact.
✦ ✦ ✦
It happened a year ago—actually, at this point, it was more than a year and a half ago.
The very moment I opened up my email client and saw that name and that mail subject in my inbox, sweat erupted from every single pore on my body.
From: Makigai Namako (Author)
Subject: Your Fan Mail
My entire nervous system temporarily cut itself into shreds as it juggled the elation of getting a response with the anxiety that said response might be a rejection. If I’m being honest, the anxiety outweighed the elation just a little bit. By a ratio of nine to one.
Which was only natural, right? I’d never asked for help from a professional author before. And really, it was pure arrogance for a high schooler—who was only just a high schooler—to be making an offer like this out of the blue to a major author whose works sat on bookshelves across the entire country. I would be lucky enough if he found it endearing, as he gave a polite, professional response to turn me down.
The odds were stacked against me no matter how I spun it.
I could still remember clearly the way I gripped the mouse and how I clicked on the email with a wobbly index finger.
From: Makigai Namako (Author)
Subject: Your Fan Mail
Dear Ooboshi Akiteru-sama,
It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Makigai Namako, an author whose works are published by UZA Bunko. I am getting in touch after seeing your message and contact details in your fan letter.
First, I’d like to thank you for your letter. Hearing how strongly you sympathized with all the characters and their nuances made me very happy, and it was greatly encouraging. There was a time when I was wondering whether it was worth it to keep on writing, but your letter helped me to be more optimistic about my work. Thank you, truly.
Now that the long introduction is out of the way, I wanted to let you know that I would be more than happy to help with your indie game, if you’ll have me. There may be a lot of trial-and-error involved on my part, as I have never written for a video game before, but I promise to give it my all. If this is something you would have me work with you on for the long term, all the better.
If there was a god, his name was Makigai Namako-sensei.
I was happy enough to have received a polite response, but I never thought he’d actually agree to work with me!
I’m not exaggerating when I say I started yelling, “I did it! Heck yeah! Woo!” loudly, and slid on my knees in the center of the room with my arms in the air, leaning back like a soccer player who’d just scored a goal.
What was I, a kid?
It must’ve been muscle memory. I used to make that pose a lot when I was little, playing with Mashiro and her older brother. I remember they were broadcasting the World Cup on TV, and though it’s cringey to admit, us two boys were easily influenced. We copied that pose over and over, completely running it into the ground.
Eventually, Mashiro got brainwashed—sorry, influenced—too, and started making the same pose whenever something good happened, or she accomplished something big.
Anyway, I was absolutely over the moon when Makigai Namako-sensei became the Alliance’s scenario writer. There was more to it than the attention we’d gain from having the name of a famous author on the project (though that was cause for celebration—big cause for celebration).
I’d always related strongly to the male lead in Makigai Namako-sensei’s novel, the one who was always by the main girl’s side. It was like his very existence affirmed everything about my life: everything I’d ever held dear, and everything I was trying to do.
It was all the more important to me, because it all came at a time I was wavering.
I was obsessing over anxious questions: Was I right to be doing what I was for Ozu’s sake? Wasn’t I just interfering where I shouldn’t be? Wasn’t I just sending him on a one-way ride to hell?
And then this character came along, and told me I was on the right path.
How could I not have been touched by that?
I can say this now, without a doubt.
That day, at the very moment I read that message, I fell in love with the author known as Makigai Namako.